


Out of the Forest

by tree



Category: The X-Files
Genre: Community: kink_bingo, Costume Kink, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-01-09
Updated: 2010-01-09
Packaged: 2017-10-06 00:42:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,847
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/47796
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tree/pseuds/tree
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Mulder and Scully explore the tale of Little Red Riding Hood, for variations on the word 'explore.'</p>
            </blockquote>





	Out of the Forest

**Author's Note:**

> My thanks, as usual, to [lightlack](http://lightlack.livejournal.com), who wielded her beta!scythe in typically deadly fashion. The woman is ruthless. Ruthless, I tell you!
> 
> Also, I hate the word 'panties' and I use it unwillingly. Just saying.

> Let me tell you about her mouth.  
> Her mouth's the red cottage  
> Where the wolf ate Grandma.  
> \--My Beloved, Charles Simic  
> 

It's after nine and Mulder's... well, not bored, exactly. It's more that he feels fidgety, restless; he wants to knock on Dr Scully's door and ask if Dana can come out to play. They can have a rousing debate about the plausibility of reanimating dead tissue and then, at some crucial moment, he can push her against the wall and tear her clothes off. It is, he thinks, a very good way to spend an evening.

Of course, this evening isn't going to turn out that way. Scully is planning a Halloween party for the Pediatrics unit--no small feat, given the number of children with dietary restrictions who'll be attending. Since he's allowed out of the house now, he even gets to have some input this year. They've been tossing costume ideas around all night.

"I know," he says finally, struck by his own brilliance, "how about you be Little Red Riding Hood and I'll be the Big Bad Wolf?"

"Or," Scully responds, not even looking up from her laptop, "how about _you_ be Red and _I'll_ be the wolf?"

Mulder can almost feel his pupils dilate as some very interesting images spark across his synapses.

"Okay," he says.

She raises her eyes, seeming intrigued by his tone--sort of breathless and eager--and cocks an eyebrow. "Really?"

The room is suddenly too warm. He shrugs with what he hopes is nonchalance. "I look very fetching in red, Scully."

"Oh yes," she says, with a tiny quirk of her lips. "So you do."

\--

Seventeen days later—not that Mulder's been counting--Scully arrives in his office doorway carrying another of her mysterious packages. She's been having them delivered to the hospital so that he won't have a chance to snoop while she's at work. It's terrible when there's no trust in a relationship, he thinks.

"That's your costume?" she asks.

He plucks at his bright red hoodie. "Scully, it's freezing outside. Grandma wouldn't want me to catch cold on the way to her house."

"Mulder, Grandma knows that rhinoviruses are transmitted through contact with infected bodily fluids, not lowered temperatures, and that you'll be travelling in a car with a fully functioning heater anyway."

"But it'll still be cold between the house and the car."

She shakes her head at him and turns toward the bedroom.

"My logic is irrefutable, Scully!" he calls. The bathroom door shuts and he spins his chair in a circle. Playing with her like this is so much fun.

By the time Scully comes out of the bathroom, Mulder is sitting on the edge of the bed. Whatever he was expecting, it wasn't this. She looks... 'adorable' is the only word he can think of. Her costume is all one piece--like footie pyjamas, only without the feet--with a long tail, and a hood with pointy ears. Six buttons up the front. With no shoes on and her hair long and loose, she could almost be a little girl. Almost. He's grinning like a fool.

"It looks stupid, doesn't it?"

"No!" he laughs, moving closer. "No. It looks--" he tries to find the words to tell her how wonderful it is to see this part of her again, the silly, slightly goofy part that's been absent for far too long. "It looks great," he says finally. "The kids will love it."

Her smile is slightly lopsided as she ducks her head, and he knows she's pleased and a little embarrassed.

"Not quite the Big Bad Wolf I was expecting, though," he tells her on their way to the car.

In the light from the porch bulb her smile is as enigmatic as any Agent Scully ever wore. "You haven't seen what's underneath it."

\--

Mulder's basket of treats is a hit with the children, if not his red hoodie. "But Little Red Riding Hood is a _girl_," seems to be the most common complaint. Scully, on the other hand, is the center of attention. All the children want to touch her costume and pet her ears and tail. It's wrong to be jealous of a bunch of sick kids, but Mulder's not used to sharing her. To counter any burgeoning petulance, he amuses himself by imagining future therapy sessions where a host of young men confess to bestiality fantasies dating back to tonight.

"You're not _really_ the Big Bad Wolf," one boy tells her, very earnestly.

"No, not really," she says. "I'm just pretending."

Mulder thinks children respond to Scully partly because of her size. She's smaller than many adults, closer to the ground. But mostly he thinks it's because of her steadiness, the gravity with which she listens to everything they say. She treats them as though they deserve to be heard, much as she's always treated him. He knows how extraordinary it can feel to be taken seriously.

The party only lasts for an hour. Candy and candy-replacements are consumed, appropriately spooky stories are read, and then everyone is put to bed. Mulder is particularly looking forward to that part of his own evening.

"'Little Red Riding Hood' is an awful story, really," Scully says from the passenger seat. She's letting him drive tonight because of her costume, although usually she's very territorial about the car. _Her_ car. Mulder supposes she's making up for all the years he was the one driving them around for miles in the middle of nowhere.

"None of the classic folk tales are particularly savoury, Scully. They're meant to impart cultural mores from generation to generation."

"Do what you're told or you'll be eaten by a wolf?" she asks.

"Metaphorically speaking," he amends. They drive in silence for a few more miles. "Did you ever dress up as Little Red Riding Hood?"

He glances over to find her smiling, the flash of her teeth faint as they pass under a streetlight.

"No, I never did. Missy did one year, though. And then all the kids at school started calling her Little Red. She hated it."

"So you wisely chose to avoid treading the same path of shame."

She huffs a quiet laugh. "Something like that."

They drive further in silence, in the familiar intimacy of warmth and darkness. A waxing gibbous moon hovers ahead, like a lamp left on to guide their way. Mulder wishes it were a full moon so that he could tease Scully about werewolves and shedding her skin. Now that they're almost home, he allows himself to think of her earlier parting shot and enjoy the heightened sense of anticipation.

"When do I get to see what's underneath it?" he asks.

With his peripheral vision, he sees Scully glance at him and then away. It's difficult to be sure in the darkness, but he thinks she might be blushing.

\--

After a trip to the bathroom courtesy of the three cans of soda he drank at the hospital, Mulder wanders into the bedroom to find Scully still wearing her costume. The hood is down, and she's playing with the tail, flicking it back and forth.

"Hey, Big Bad Wolf," he says.

"Hey, Red," she replies.

He walks over and stands in front of her, his knees touching the mattress. He bounces a little. "So what'd you do with Grandma?"

Scully reaches up to pull on the zipper of his hoodie. "Do you really want to talk about Grandma right now?"

He shakes his head. "No, ma'am."

"I didn't think so."

"Although, in the story, the wolf is disguised as Grandma when Little Red Riding Hood gets to the cottage, and she doesn't know it's him."

"Yes, and in the story a hunter comes along and slices the wolf open--" she runs her hand under his t-shirt and across his belly "--and Grandma and Little Red Riding Hood climb out. I hope you don't have any plans for vivisection tonight, Mulder."

"No, but I was hoping to get a pelt as my trophy."

Scully laughs at that, a real laugh, and it's so delightful that he has to lean down and kiss her laughing mouth.

"Why, Grandma," he murmurs, giving her a playful lick, "what big teeth you have."

She bites his lip in retaliation. "All the better to eat you with, my dear."

"So do I get to see what's underneath it now?" He flicks the top button of her costume.

She leans back and gives him an expectant look. Starting at the bottom, Mulder counts the buttons as they pull free under his fingers. As he releases number six, Scully lifts her chin, and he slides the costume off her shoulders to let it pool around her thighs.

She is a study in ivory and gold. The fabric of her bra and panties gleams softly against her fair skin. Her sexiness is subtle and elegant, and Mulder is struck, as he often is, by the simplicity of her beauty.

He traces his finger along the scalloped lace at the tops of her breasts, then in a line down her sternum to meet the matching lace running low across her belly. A trail of gooseflesh follows from his touch.

"You're lovely," he says, and his voice comes out a little rough. "For me?"

She nods. "And for me."

Mulder feels almost like a boy again, awkward and eager. It's as though he's never seen Scully undressed before. He realizes that, in a way, he hasn't. Never before has she worn something so expressly for herself. It is a gift for him to treasure, and the knowledge moves him immeasurably.

Then it dawns on him that she was wearing this in the car, at the hospital, all night. Knowing she was going to come home and let him take it off. The thought is so unexpectedly erotic he feels light-headed.

"Jesus, Scully," he says, and his voice is reverent.

She moves to pull the costume all the way off, but Mulder stops her with his hands. "No, leave it on."

"But don't you--"

"You're supposed to be the Big Bad Wolf, remember? Who eats Little Red Riding Hood." He can't stop looking at his hands covering hers, and the slippery shine of fabric along her hips. He begins to rub his thumbs in light circles at the point of each bone. They discovered some time ago that it is a profoundly erogenous area for her. He once made her come just by touching her there with his hands and mouth.

She makes a small, wordless sound. Looking up, he finds her eyes are fixed on his, the pupils huge and dark.

"The Wolf devoured her," she says. "Consumed her."

A shudder runs through Mulder. He can smell the hot, animal scent of her. "Yes," he says.

Scully brings his left hand to her mouth and licks delicately at one finger. His breath catches in his throat as she sucks lightly. He moans when she bites down on his knuckle with her sharp white teeth.

"Lie down," she tells him.

He does.

**Author's Note:**

> Scully's costume is the incredibly cute adult 'Where the Wild Things Are' wolf costume. Scully didn't pay $610 for it, though. See image [here](http://www.andbirds.org/paste/cottage-costume.jpg). Her lingerie is by Victoria's Secret. You can see it [here](http://www.andbirds.org/paste/cottage-underneath.jpg). I'm quite certain that Scully looks a lot better in it than the model does.
> 
> Oddly enough, the Simic poem didn't inspire the story. It was just a nice little bonus. The title comes from 'Little Red-Cap' by Carol Ann Duffy – because it's a fantastic poem and also because if I were responsible for actually thinking up my own titles, this would be called Fic #31.


End file.
